


A true fairy tale

by Rifleks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Gen, Magic, Miracles, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 17:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rifleks/pseuds/Rifleks
Summary: A story of a girl that while walking along the river made miracles on her way with her magical singing.True magic is inside a person.





	A true fairy tale

This happened a long time ago in the past, or perhaps it was a long time ago in the future; it might be happening right now or maybe it didn’t happen at all, in this universe, anyway. But it’s a very important story and should be told and if it hasn’t happened yet, verily someone will make it happen…

A girl, or maybe she was a woman or maybe a fey, but something in that neighborhood, was walking along a river. The river was swift, cold and dark blue. The girl had beautiful blond hair, brown eyes and was looking down and to the left towards the little waves in the river. Suddenly, she saw a turtle. The turtle looks young and healthy, but he was sitting on a rock in the rivulet and looked very downcast. “What’s the matter, young Turtle?” the maiden said. “Oh, nothing…” answered the turtle and looked ever so glum. “Surely, there must be something,” – said the pleasant girl in the white dress, “or else you wouldn’t be so sad.” 

“Everyone things I am the slowest of all the animals. They mock me and I am very ashamed of myself. It takes me so long to walk along the bank, when a hare or even a butterfly can cover the distance much faster.” The girl was sad to hear the turtle say this, for she didn’t like turtles, or any animals, or any creatures, to be sure, being sad – she much preferred them being proud and happy.

But she wasn’t sure what to say, so to cheer up the turtle she decided to sing him a song. And that she did. She sung him a song about rivers, and mountains, and times of old – about eagles soaring and mountains growing, and it was a very beautiful song, with the notes traveling with the speed of sound, and her thoughts traveling even faster.

When she was done, the turtle felt so happy…He said “thank you, young maiden,” and went on hopping along the river. There he met a fox and a hare, who’d become friends once in a blue moon, and challenged them to a foot race, and - what do you know? – the turtle won. That day and the next, and the whole week, all everyone talked about was the turtle who beat the hare and the fox in a footrace. 

On the morning of the next day the turtle caught up to the girl-traveler and made sure to tell her how wonderfully he ran and how much she inspired him. And she was very happy, because before she didn’t know she had such an inspiring beautiful voice. So, she thanked the turtle and carried on her way…

Then the young singer came upon a lake. It was winter by then and everything around was white, just like she was in her white dress and with her blond hair, so she felt very much like she belonged…She wasn’t cold at all, because she kept singing and that kept her warm. The lake wasn’t frozen and it was tossing its waves back and forth and looked very restive.

“Good evening, Lake,” she said, because it was evening and the snow glistened in the rays of the setting sun. “Evening,” said the Lake. “I am not sure what’s good about it…”  
“Why do you say that?” – asked the singer in white, for it looked like a very good evening to her…” Well,” said the Lake, “all the other lakes freeze in the winter, at least around here. And they sleep and rest and get ready for spring and summer. And when the summer comes, kids come and play in their waves. I never get to rest. The wind blows here all winter and makes my waves run back and forth and I can’t freeze and sleep. And then because everyone thinks I am so eternally cold, no one comes to play with me in the summer and I feel lonely.” “Hm,” said the girl in white, who was by now getting a little cold herself, what with the chilling penetrating wind. But she started singing. She sang of the seasons, of the feelings of people and trees and stars, of times past and future and the words were beautiful, but mainly it was her voice that captivated and brought life; and her voice was such, because it was a projection of her spirit. She sang and the wind paused, and the hibernating bears turned in the snow and had sweet dreams. The lake felt peaceful at last, but the girl knew that if she left, the wind might start up again and not let the Lake sleep. So, she sang long enough until the Lake himself began to sign in tune and his voice, too, was so pleasant and calm that it was a soothing gentle influence. And then the girl bid him good-by and carried no, for she really wanted some hot tea in this heart of winter in a summer dress. But the next day the winter wind caught her and happily told her that the Lake was so calm and sang such a peaceful song that he, the Wind, stopped blowing so hard and the Lake lulled himself to sleep and was covered in ice and fresh snow.

The girl was very happy to hear this and she carried on her way. She wasn’t exactly sure where she was going, but she knew she would end up somewhere, for one always ends up somewhere, if one goes at all…

She created many miracles on her way, or – rather – others created the miracles in her wake, inspired. One time she came upon a village, where the villagers were quite unhappy. No one had gone to church for years, because the only church in the village was dilapidated and in ruins, but no one would fix it for there were “ghosts and apparitions.” The girl didn’t know anything about ghosts and apparitions, but she started signing as usually. And ass usually, it was beautiful. This time she hardly said any words – she only mimicked the music she felt from the mountains, the forests, the people themselves. She had a way of picking up all the harmonious notes in the souls of people and the spirit of things – she left the cacophony alone. And this time she mixed in the spirit of the mountains, and the Lake and the turtle, the sky and stars and her few simple sounds carried an infinity of meaning and depth.

One boy heard her song and he thought it sounded much better than the creaky sounds of the old church. And he decided that the town had been afraid much too long, went into the church and found it nothing but an old creaky door to be fixed. To be sure, if there were demons, they must have fled or melted with the girl’s voice.

And the boy was very proud and happy and so were the villagers. They had their first in years Sunday service and gave the brave boy and the singing girl all the tea they wanted and bid her stay. Only she carried on her way – she knew there was more to be done and more roads to travel.

And so, she went – singing and inspiring. Her voice was magical, it could melt the snow or stop predators, but she tried never to use it that way. Instead, she woke up all that was best in the people and things and they did all the brave deeds themselves.

Finally, dressed in a pink dress (which one of the village women had given her) and very, very tired, the young singer or sorceress, or girl or enchantress, or whatever words you wish to give her, for the words really don’t matter that much, came upon a castle. She started singing and the castle froze for a minute. The nobles stopped upbraiding their laborers, the husbands found beauty in their wives, even of twenty years, the duelists dropped their swords and stopped dueling over a lady’s glove…The king said: “it must be a nightingale, how beautifully it sings…” Then his archers told him it was quite large to be a nightingale and looked like a lovely lady. “Let her in,” said the king and the bridge dropped over the moat and seven horsemen rode out to meet the beautiful and beautifying singer. She smiled and walked gladly into the castle, and there is many an adventure to be told about the castle and beyond – about feasts and love, peace and war, past and future…

But that is a story for quite another fairy tale, for these are complicated things…Love especially is such a confusing complicated thing we had better leave it to philosophers, who is undoubtedly confuse it even more…Perhaps it is better unraveled by a young troubadour or singer than some sage with a beard…

But this is a simple story and here it ends. It was simply about a beautiful girl in a beautiful white dress (which then changed to pink) and her beautiful songs that stemmed from her especially beautiful spirit. And so, ends the tale about how she created miracles around her, because she wanted to and meant to. And, if you really put your mind and heart to it, so, perhaps, can you. Who says you even have to sing? – Not me. The magic possibilities are endless, but let’s not get complicated – it’s a simple story. Just learn from the inspiring sorceress in the white dress…

She thought miracles were quite true and possible, but still miraculous. But of course, they are – the very fact that she exists at all is, in itself, a miracle. A very bellarific miracle – which means, as anyone knows, terrific in a beautiful way.

And that’s about all there is to say right now. Now it’s time to sleep, just like the Lake did…Good night…

 

THE END


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